My Dear People of St. Thomas, From our places of isolation, in the COVID-19 world, it’s hard to believe it is already April 23rd. We have not worshiped together in the physical building since the Second Wednesday in Lent, March 11th. In ways of pure ingenuity, we have banded together in spite of a virus! We waved palm branches, and built and stripped altars, and washed hands, and sat at empty tombs, and witnessed the Risen Christ in ways we never imagined possible. And yet. And yet. And yet. We are still left at that same “so what” place (always my big theological moment). What do we do with all this “Good News” that we’ve witnessed, year after year, even in new ways, that we continue to find? Because, after all, in the aftermath of resurrection, we’re still walking that same 7-mile stretch to Emmaus, wondering “What’s just happened,” and…
“We may not ever understand why we suffer or be able to control the forces that cause our suffering, but we can have a lot to say about what the suffering does to us, and what sort of people we become because of it.” — Rabbi Harold S. Kushner, When Bad Things Happen to Good People There is wisdom in the J curve, for it helps us to understand what we experience during times of significant change and disruption. Note from the diagram that the vertical axis of the J curve is “Stability,” while the horizontal access is “Resilience/Growth.” When change occurs in our lives, the graphic shows that stability begins to decline. When change is significant—a move, the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job, or as now, experiencing a pandemic, the decline in stability can be steep. One natural reaction to a sudden experience of…
Respectfully submitted by Paul McCright, Clerk
St. Thomas the Apostle Episcopal Church
Christopher Thomas Sermon for Second Sunday of Easter, Year A – 4/19/20 Acts 2:14a, 22-32 Psalm 16 1 Peter 1:3-9 John 20:19-31 Be Careful of What You Ask For – You Might Get It! I saw it. With my own eyes. I wasn’t there, in person, but through the wonders of technology, and computers, I saw it, and yet, I simply could not believe it. I sat there, stone cold stunned, too shocked and frightened to move. The day started as most any other. I arrived at the Cathedral early on that September day, because arriving early, before dawn, was, is the way that a business administrator gets some serious work cranked out before phones start ringing, requests start coming in, life starts happening, in the heartbeat of the Church. I was buried in my office, in front of my computer, when I started getting pinged with notices from CNN…
My Dear People of St. Thomas, Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Christ is Risen! After what always to me seems like an eternity, and this year even more so, we are finally to Eastertide, the great 50 days of Easter in which we celebrate the Resurrection of our Savior Jesus Christ, the conquering of the grave. We can now, and we should now, and we must now shout “Alleluia” at every opportunity we can possibly find! Recognize Jesus Christ alive, Immanuel, among and with us, in all that we live and do, and all that we will continue to be. The promise and the hope of our future are alive and well, in spite of what our circumstances seem to say. Graves do not win! “Alleluias” of life-giving spirit and shouts of great thanks simply must be raised to all who worked tirelessly to make our Lenten/Palm Sunday/Holy Week/Easter observance the once-in-a-lifetime…
(Several years ago, I wrote a column similar to this for Easter. What I wrote seems particularly relevant for the unprecedented circumstances we now find ourselves in, and so I have updated it for this year.) For those of us who celebrate Easter in the northern hemisphere, we are blessed to be surrounded by abundant symbols of resurrection and rebirth, including the new buds on the trees, the return of birds that have been south for the winter, the lengthening of the days, and the overall warming temperatures. For me, though, there is one sign in nature that is the most meaningful indicator of new life this time of year, one that is probably easy to overlook…the ground begins to soften. First, the snow melts, and then gradually, the ground that has been covered and frozen all winter begins to thaw and soften. One thing I love about the ground…
Earlier this year, Presiding Bishop Curry invited Episcopal parishes to consider supporting the Good Friday Offering. Since 1922, Episcopalians have supported ministries of the dioceses of the Province of Jerusalem and the Middle East through special offerings during their Good Friday services. These offerings provide critical assistance to the ministries of this Province to promote peace and mutual understanding through pastoral care, as well as health and educational programs throughout the region. On March 17, 2020, in response to the coronavirus global health crisis and the recommendation from the U. S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to suspend public gatherings of more than 10 people, Presiding Bishop Michael Curry sent a message to Episcopalians concerning the suspension of in-person gatherings for public worship during the sacred time of Holy Week and Easter Day and possibly beyond. “It is important to emphasize the suspension of in-person gatherings is not a…
My Dear Doubters of Great Faith, As we stand on the precipice of what may be one of the most unusual of Paschal Triduum’s, I hope and pray that this finds you safe and healthy in your places of isolation. It seems such a strange way for we people of collective, unifying faith, to celebrate the most holy of holy events in our Judeo/Christian heritage. And yet, here we are, physically distancing ourselves, keeping ourselves from one-another, in the interest of the greater common good. Even in the face of COVID-19, we cannot, and never cease to be the Body of Christ. It is through our journey of the Triduum, this year’s in solitude, and yet still together, that we pursue, like Mary and all the others, the new again “Alleluia” of Easter Sunday morning. We know it will come. And it will be so much the sweeter because of…
In the middle section of Romans 8, Paul describes the salvation which God has set loose in Jesus Christ as cosmic in scope. What God is doing is much larger than the “personal salvation” on which popular American religious culture obsesses. God’s project of redemption encompasses a world, a universe, the whole cosmos, something grander than any individual person. That enormous canvas on which God’s might acts playout does not cancel the personal, by any means, but it by all means puts the personal into perspective. Salvation includes me, yes, but also and especially something much larger than me. God is saving me in concert with what God is accomplishing with the rest of creation. The way through the current crisis provides a maddening illustration of a salvation that comes to us in the first-person plural (we and us) and not in the first-person singular (I and me). Some of…
I am finding that the ongoing experience of the pandemic is similar to having a large application open on my computer’s desktop. It is always there, running in the background. And even if I’m not currently thinking about the pandemic, it is still there, zapping energy from all the other applications I am trying to operate. This metaphor helps me to understand why so many of us are all feeling a bit “off” right now. We may turn the news off for a while and try not to think about what is happening, but there is no way to “force quit” what’s going on in the world. I share this in hopes that it can give us all permission to be a little more patient and gentle with ourselves and everyone whom we encounter. The mental and spiritual health challenges are mounting for all of us. How could it be…